You and Me
by DarkAngel0410
Summary: Randy wants to talk to Punk, again. Sequel to 'Don't Even'. Slash.


**Story Title:** You and Me

**Story Type: **Slash

**Characters: **CM Punk, Randy Orton, Colt Cabana

**Pairings: **past Punk/Randy, Punk/Colt

**Rating: **PG-13/NC-17

**Series: **No Words Needed -Eyes, Your Own Fault, 5 and 1 -Punk Remix, Long Time and Don't Even

**Disclaimer: **Not mine; I know, it makes me sad, too. They belong to themselves and Vince/ROH. And when it comes to Colt and Punk, I assume they belong to each other as well. Especially since no one else could deal with Colt -unless they were being blackmailed. Yes, Hero, I'm looking at you.

**Warnings: **Slash, language

**A/N: **After the intense in ring confrontation between Punk and Randy on Monday night, I knew I was going to write another one of these. I'm loving this feud and I am praying to the wrestling gods that the 'Mania match lives up to all this intense hype. Am I the only one who caught the smug smirk on Punk's face as he was walking back up the ramp? Watch out, Randy, the Second City Savior is very, very tricksy and I think he's still got some plans for you.

Randy watched from backstage as the paramedics loaded Ryan onto the ambulance. Smirking, he headed back to his dressing room when he decided to go taunt Punk and make him understand the kind of trouble he was going to be in.

Punk threw his gear in his bag and zipped it up before he sat back down. He wasn't working the dark match tonight, so he could have left for the hotel as soon as his spot with Randy was done. But Punk made it a habit to study his opponents and he knew this one better then most. He knew Randy would come to taunt him; he wouldn't be able to help himself.

He messed around on twitter while he was waiting, tweeting something ridiculous to keep occupied. And when the door swung open and Randy stalked in, Punk glanced at the time and smirked. 10:45, right on time.

'Well, Punk, I took care of your last sheep," Randy taunted, unable to stop the smug smirk that was on his face. "It's just you and me come 'Mania. I hope you're ready to be sidelined for the next few months."

"Randy, Randy," Punk said, shaking his head and standing up. "Can't you come up with anything new? You've been saying the same thing for the past few weeks. And, honestly, it wasn't that entertaining the first time I heard it, never mind now.

"Maybe you should ask creative for help; even the crap they come up with is bound to be better then the garbage you're constantly spitting out."

"Shut the fuck up," Randy snarled, getting in Punk's face and grabbing his arm. "Or I'm going to do it for you, you stupid fucker."

"Please, Randall, I'm not some rookie," Punk scoffed, pulling his arm free. "You're not going to scare me by throwing a bitch fit and cursing.

"You need to get a new gimmick, seriously. Finding me and saying the same thing, over and over again, is boring -and ridiculous.

"You're pissed at me, I get it. You're going to put me in the hospital -I've heard it before. You think you're the only person who's ever wanted to hurt me? Christ, I once had a Marine pull a knife on me and threaten to slit my throat 'cause me and Cabana were flirting with his wife to get free stuff. Believe me when I tell you I took that a lot more seriously then I'm taking you.

"Look at you, Randy, you're out of control," Punk smirked, hefting his duffel onto his shoulder. "You're not sleeping, you're not eating, you're losing your temper. Hell, you're not even fucking your new boy toy. If I were you, I'd worry about making it to 'Mania without collapsing. Who knew you could be so delicate?"

"How the fuck did you know that?" Randy hissed, narrowing his eyes.

Punk just smirked again; he always knew what was worth knowing. He turned his back on Randy and headed for the door, knowing Randy would follow.

"Listen, I want you to stop the fucken games," Randy told him, his voice shaking with rage. "Or I'm going to -"

"You're going to do what?" Punk taunted, stopping in the hallway and turning to face him. He smirked again when Randy just clenched his jaw and glared.

"Exactly. You won't do shit before April 2nd. And I can tell you exactly why, too, Randall; that's how fucken predictable you are.

"You won't touch me before then because you want to feel validated for what you do to me. You want the fans cheering you on when you punt my skull in, you want to show everyone what happens when you cross Randall Keith Orton.

"You want to show the whole fucken world how great you are. But most of all, you want to show everyone that I'm nothing to you; nothing but an annoyance easily brushed aside and forgotten. You want them to see that you're ten times the wrestler I am, that you're better then me in every way possible.

"And that's you're down fall, Randy. You'll wait because you need and want to show everyone how great you are, how talented you are. You need to remind everyone about your legacy so they know what a great wrestler you are.

"My talent speaks for itself, I don't need a famous father or grandfather for people to know how good I am. And the only person who matters knows me inside out, knows the real me and he's all that counts to me.

"You'll wait, Randy. Because above and beyond all that, you're arrogant and you think that the best place to show me where I belong in this business is the biggest stage of them all.

"Like I said, you're the most fucken predictable person here. And as fun as our little chat has been, I have some place to go. Try and get some rest."

With one last smirk, Punk headed down the hall. He really hoped Randy stepped up his game before 'Mania; this was almost too easy.

Randy stared after Punk, his jaw clenched and his hands fisted, cursing the day he had ever met him.


End file.
